by Anne Hunter (1742 - 1821)

Language: English 
Available translation(s): DUT FRE
The anguish of my bursting heart
Till now my tongue hath ne'er betray'd.
Despair at length reveals the smart;
No time can cure, no hope can aid.

My sorrows verging to the grave,
No more shall pain thy gentle breast.
Think, death gives freedom to the slave,
Nor mourn for me when I'm at rest.

Yet, if at eve you chance to stray
Where silent sleep the peaceful dead,
Give to your kind compassion way,
Nor check the tears by pity shed.

Whene'er the precious dew drop falls
I ne'er can know, I ne'er can see;
And if sad thought my fate recalls,
A sigh may rise unheard by me.


Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , title 1: "Désespoir", copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • DUT Dutch (Nederlands) [singable] (Lau Kanen) , title 1: "Wanhoop", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 16
Word count: 110